America Horror : Demon never sleep.

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29 Neibolt Street.

Rain poured over the overgrown yard of the three-story abandoned house. Broken roof tiles and shattered windows stared out like empty eye sockets.

"This is it," Mike said, stopping the car.

Bill and the others sat inside, staring at the house. Their breathing had turned shallow and fast. To them, this building wasn't just a ruin — it was the physical embodiment of every nightmare from their childhood.

Soren got out alone.

Beverly started to open her mouth to remind him to take an umbrella, but what happened next made the entire group forget how to speak.

Rain was falling in heavy sheets, yet not a single drop touched Soren. The water simply slid around him like it had hit an invisible barrier.

Watching that impossible sight, hope flickered back into their eyes.

Maybe he really could end the nightmare that had haunted Derry for so long.

"There's a dry well in the basement," Mike said as he got out and hurried after Soren. "It connects to the sewer entrance. That's the only way down to the clown's lair."

"It lives down there."

Soren nodded and kicked the wooden front door open.

Bang!

A wave of rot and mildew hit them so hard that the people behind him started coughing.

Mike forced down his fear and led Soren through the hallway to the basement stairs.

"It's right here."

He pointed at the iron door with a shaky voice.

Soren didn't waste time. He kicked it open again.

The door slammed down with a crash. A blast of freezing air rushed out.

They descended the rotting stairs.

In the middle of the basement sat a well made of old stone bricks.

Bill stared at it. Buried memories came flooding back.

Twenty-seven years ago, they had climbed down this exact well and fought for their lives inside the clown's nest.

Soren walked to the edge and looked down.

The bottom was pitch black. Even with his ability to see in complete darkness, he couldn't tell how deep it went.

Without hesitation, he swung his legs over and dropped straight in.

"Soren!"

Beverly gasped and rushed to the edge.

Thud.

A few seconds later, a dull impact echoed from below.

Soren stood at the bottom and looked around with a frown.

Something was wrong.

The walls were covered in moss, but there was no tunnel like Mike had described. He ran his hands along the stone and found no hidden door.

"What the hell?"

Soren's mind raced.

This shouldn't be one of Pennywise's traps. He hadn't sensed anything off about Mike at all.

He quickly reviewed what he knew about the original story. In the book and movie, the adults had come back and used this well to reach the clown's lair again.

So why was it a dead end now?

Had his presence changed the story? Or had the Heretic Coven altered the rules in this experiment site?

Then it hit him.

In the original story, Mike had made them go find something important — personal items from their childhood. Objects that carried strong memories, whether good or terrifying. Mike had called it the "Chud Ritual." It was the only method he had found after years of research that could actually hurt Pennywise.

Only by gathering those emotionally charged items could they gain the power to truly kill the clown.

"Is that what's missing?"

Soren looked up at the worried faces peering down from the top of the well.

The path would only open once they faced their past and brought back those items.

He bent his knees, ready to jump.

The moment he pushed off, the well changed.

The stone walls turned into something fleshy and pulsing. The opening above began to close like a giant fist was squeezing it shut.

"Fuck, what is that?!"

Bill and the others scrambled back in panic.

Dozens of small, gray hands shot up from the bottom of the well and grabbed Soren's ankles, crawling up his legs.

He looked down.

The stone beneath his feet had transformed into a clown's face. It grinned up at him with a wide, cruel mouth.

The gray hands were coming out of that mouth, trying to drag him inside.

Soren stared at the grinning face and let out a cold snort.

With a thought, a multi-purpose rocket launcher appeared in his hands — one of the weapons he had drawn earlier from Lady's experience card. He had thought heavy firearms were useless to him now, but in this narrow well they were perfect.

He flipped the launcher upside down and aimed it straight at the clown's face and the mass of hands.

"Smiling that big? Got a funny joke you want to share?"

He smirked. "Oh right. I forgot. You're just a third-rate circus clown."

BOOM!

The explosion roared inside the well. Blinding fire and heat swallowed everything below.

Using the force of the blast, Soren stomped down hard and shot upward like a missile.

Crash!

He smashed straight through the closing stone opening and landed back in the basement.

Bill and the others rushed over, pale and shaken.

"Jesus Christ, you actually made it out alive?"

"Are you hurt? What the hell happened down there?"

Soren shook his head. "I'm fine. Let's get out of here first."

---

Inside a café.

"A dead end? That's impossible!"

Bill stared at Soren in disbelief. "We came out through there last time!"

They sat in a booth while their coffee slowly went cold. Soren had already told them what happened in the well.

"That was then. This is now."

His voice stayed calm.

"Mike, you've stayed in town all these years studying the clown."

Soren turned to the silent Black man in the corner.

"Besides knowing where its lair is, what else did you find? Something like… an old ritual that can actually hurt it?"

Mike's whole body jerked. He looked at Soren like he had just seen a ghost.

"You—how do you know about the Chud Ritual?"

He had never even told his closest friends about it. How did this stranger know?

"That's not important right now."

Soren looked at the group.

"What I need is for each of you to go find one object from your childhood. Something that carries real emotional weight — good or bad. Only by gathering those items and performing the ritual can we open the path to the clown's lair."

The others went pale.

Retrieving those objects meant ripping open old wounds. It meant going back to the places where the worst things had happened and facing memories they had spent twenty-seven years trying to bury.

The coffee had gone cold.

In the end, trusting in Soren's power, Bill took a deep breath and made the decision for all of them.

"Alright. We'll go get them."

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